Whumptober 2019 Oneshots
by Sherlock's Pipe And Hat
Summary: Just what the title says. Most of my stories will center around Gordon. I know I'm starting super late, but I want to get through all the prompts, so look for double updates. Rated T because I might get dark at times with my stuff.
1. Chapter 1 Shaky Hands

**Author's Note: So, it's been what...a few years since I've posted anything? Well, I figured maybe I could try to get out of that rut of anonymity and start posting again. It will definitely be more sporadic than not – I'm a junior History major with a minor in writing, and I work...and wow, I just finished several big projects and my MIDTERMS. Guys. I totally want to learn Spanish, but un clase es dificil. I never took it in High School, and lets just say, that was my last midterm and I gave myself a stress headache…**

**That all being said, after that wonderful rabbit trail, this is going to be my collection of Whumptober 2019 stories, based of the prompt list. I am well aware that I am starting super late, but I'm going to try to hit all of them. So, be prepared for double updates!**

**It's been a little while since I actually watched any Thunderbirds, so bear with me if I get something wrong. This is purely for my enjoyment and hopefully yours, and I will take constructive criticism, but please no flames. That being said, ONWARD!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds. I wouldn't be in college if I did. **

**Chapter 1 **

**Shaky Hands**

Virgil had just landed Thunderbird Two after yet another stressful rescue. They seemed to be coming closer and closer together now, and he was running high on caffeine and low on sleep the last few days. The last rescue they had been on was a fire in a series of apartment buildings, and thank God no one was lost. There were several injuries, but nothing that wouldn't be healed up with maybe a few scars later down the road.

Pushing the last few buttons to finish up his post flight checks, Virgil wondered where the resident Squid had gotten to. He had said something about wanting to chill in the cargo bay, because Virgil's presence was putting him off. Virgil had just shrugged it off, because he had figured that they were all high strung right now, and his brother just needed to be by himself. But apart from the "FAB" that was heard over the comm system when John asked them if they had arrived back in one piece, he hadn't heard anything from his younger brother.

Pushing down the concern that was trying to make itself known, Virgil left his chair and hurried to the door, a little faster than he normally might.

Okay, so he really was a little worried about Gordon.

Making it to the cargo bay, slowing his steps and quickly regulating his breathing so that Gordon wouldn't notice that he'd hurried, he spotted the blond sitting in the corner, his wrists leaning against knees that were not quite pulled up to his chin. Gordon himself was just staring off into the distance, a strange look on his face.

"Gords?" Virgil asked, hoping he sounded nonchalant, but feeling a little alarmed at the look on his brother's face.

Gordon blinked, and turned to look up at Virgil. His unfocused gaze sharpened, and he blinked again. "Virg – what – Oh, are we back already?"

Not caring if he was openly frowning anymore, Virgil crouched down next to Gordon, and then finally noticed what was probably wrong.

"Gordon! Your hands! Are you okay?" Even as he spoke, he was gently taking hold of Gordon's left wrist, careful not to jostle the hand

Each of the brothers, Kayo, and even Penelope and Brains had a special pair of gloves that were made of a mixture of latex and some other special synthetic material Brains had come up with, to maximize protection, and grip in well...sticky situations. They were definitely not indestructible, but they had helped get them out of a few bad places before.

Apparently they weren't very fire proof though. What was left of the gloves were charred, and there were several spots that were sticking to inflamed, red, blistered skin. There were a few places on his brother's hands that looked black, and that scared Virgil.

"Virgil to Scott," Virgil said, speaking into his watch, his eyes never leaving his brother's hands.

"Go ahead Virg, what's up?"

"I have a bit of a situation. Can you come down to the cargo bay of Thunderbird Two? No – wait. Meet me in the infirmary with Brains."

There was a pause, and then Scott replied, "Alright. Is everything okay?"

Virgil bit his lip, almost drawing blood, as he spared a glance up to his younger brother's eyes. Gordon was just staring at the hand that was held in Virgil's larger ones, a blank expression on his face.

"No."

Knowing that Scott would want to know more, but not willing to waste any time, Virgil cut out the transmission.

"Hey Squid, you okay to stand up?"

Gordon tore his gaze away from his damaged hands and looked at Virgil.

"Maybe?" he answered. "I was shaking earlier. I thought maybe I could get the gloves off, to maybe help, but then my hands wouldn't stop shaking. And it hurt. So I just sat down, and rested my hands on my knees, because they didn't shake anymore then. It kinda hurts Virg."

Virgil took a deep breath, realizing that Gordon was probably in shock. He sounded very unlike himself, and that more than the hands scared him. Gordon was supposed to be all jokes and pranks and lightheartedness.

"I kinda wish you had said something earlier," Virgil finally said. "I could have helped you before we took off, and you wouldn't have had to worry about shaking hands the entire trip."

Gordon sighed and closed his eyes. "I know. I just didn't want the full blown smother hen treatment. It wasn't my brightest moment."

Virgil managed to smile a little at that. He was hurt, but the lighthearted Gordon was still in there somewhere.

"Okay, well, you now get the full force of Smother hen Scott coming at you. He's meeting us in the infirmary with Brains."

Gordon opened his eyes and shot a glare at Virgil. "I'm hurt not deaf, stupid. I heard you call him."

Virgil full on smirked, a small huff of laughter escaping. "So you are, and so you did. Sorry." Virgil shifted his weight and positioned himself where he could easily help Gordon to his feet. "You good to stand if I help?"

Gordon let out a mock groan. "Just leave me here to die. I don't want to have to deal with Scott."

Virgil put his arm around Gordon's shoulders and lifted, Gordon letting out a small hiss as his hands shifted positions. They were indeed shaking with nothing to support them.

"Sorry man, I'd sooner jump off a cliff. Scott would kill me."

Gordon smiled, and shot Virgil a sideways glance. "I could push you."

Virgil shook his head. Good old Gordon.


	2. Chapter 2 Explosion

**AN: I actually remember how to post things on fanfiction . Net! Whoo! Now, to see how many chapters I can write tonight…**

**There isn't going to be any romantic relationships at all, despite any type of alluding there might seem to be at any time.**

**Disclaimer: Again, I'm a poor college student and don't own much, much less Thunderbirds. **

**Chapter 2 **

**Explosion**

Gordon was lounging on one of the pool deck chairs, minding his own business, when he heard stomping footsteps coming down the stairs. Wanting to continue to relax, but also wanting very badly to know what – or who – was making such a ruckus, he sat up, pulling his sunglasses down so that he could see a little better into the house.

What his eyes met with made him nearly erupt in laughter, but discretion and self-preservation kept him from doing so. Rather, he stood up from his chair, made a show of straightening his brightly colored Hawaiian shirt, and shuffled his way closer to his eldest brother, who had yet to notice him.

And was Scott a sight. His hair was bright neon green, and wow. Gordon was pretty sure Alan was the one who put the dye into the shampoo that Scott so coveted, but wow. He really wished _he _had thought of that.

His shuffling footsteps must have been heard, because Scott whirled around, and Gordon stopped mid stride, suddenly re-thinking his current course. If looks could kill, Gordon would have dropped dead on the spot. Gordon could almost see the steam coming out of Scott's ears.

"Uh, hi there Scotty. Nice look you got there. I see you decided barren dirt was a little out and flourishing lawn was in?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Gordon regretted them. He barely saw the fist coming, and he had no time to dodge as it connected with his jaw, and Gordon was out.

"Gordon? Hey, c'mon Gords, wake up? Please?"

Gordon groaned, and started to open his mouth to tell the annoying voice to go away, and immediately regretted the action as his jaw moved. Pain shot from his teeth all the way up to his ear and into his head. His groan of annoyance turned to one of pain.

His eyes were clenched tightly shut, but he could hear the conversation going on around him.

"It was me, Scott. I thought it would be funny...you've been so uptight lately, I thought that it would make everyone laugh...I didn't think you were going to blame it on Gordon, or that you would _hit _him..."

"No, I know. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I was mad, because I need to go to a meeting tonight, and I don't think the board of directors will be very pleased with my new hairstyle. It's no excuse, but I blew up."

There was something cold up against his jaw, and it caused Gordon to flinch.

"Hey Gords, you with us? I'm really sorry I hit you."

Gordon finally managed to pry his eyes open, and tried his own version of "if looks could kill" on Scott, but he was fairly certain that he just succeeded in making himself look more helpless because Scott's worried frown just seemed to deepen.

"My...jaw..'urts."

Scott was radiating guilt, and it would have been a very serious look if it weren't for the neon green hair that was stabbing at his eyeballs.

" 'ude…ot your geaest look." Gordon stopped, thought about how his voice sounded, and then snickered, causing himself to wince again. "I...mean...graaaytest look. Not gayest. Though neon green... could be kinda gay too."

Scott's look of guilt was quickly replaced by one of extreme annoyance. "Well, at least I didn't rattle your brains around any more than they were."

"No. Really. After that meeting, you got a hot 'ate? There's a really cute guy that runs the a'vertising 'epartment. Raymon'? Richar'?"

"I was going to start grovelling but now that you bring it up, I really do need to figure out what to do about this. Alan?" Scott turned, and Gordon saw his younger brother nervously standing off to the side.

"on't worry Alan. He alrea'y punch me. Gramma will kill him later, if Virg oesn't get to im first."

Alan smiled a little, and moved forward to help Gordon with the ice that Scott had been holding to his jaw.

"Yeah, I should totally record it for blackmailing purposes."

Scott looked pained, and crossed his arms. Gordon wanted to laugh at how constipated he looked. It was funny. Especially with neon green hair.

"If I let you take One out for a spin later on, SUPERVISED, will you keep this quiet?"

Gordon's eyes widened. "Seriously?" He was sitting up now, and winced but was able to rotated his jaw around so that he was pretty sure nothing was broken.

"Yes, seriously." Scott looked _really _pained Or constipated. Or pained _because _he was constipated...it made Gordon want to cackle but he figured he would still regret that right now.

Gordon pretended to contemplate it. "Okay, but only if you let me paint your nails later too."

Scott did a double take. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me. That, or no deal." Gordon crossed his arms, and Alan let out a giggle, looking a tad surprised at himself as he did so.

Scott's frown was an almost perfect upside down u at this point.

"Where in the world do you even _have _nail polish?"

Gordon wiggled his eyebrows. "A master never reveals his secrets."

Scott groaned. "Alright, fine! I have to go see if there's a hat or some _other _hair dye laying around.

Scott stomped away, the sound reminding Gordon of why he came out in the first place.

"Gordon, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you into trouble," Alan started.

"It's okay squirt. First rule of pranks, don't get caught. And he assumed it was me, so you succeeded."

Gordon smiled at Alan, and the youngest gave him a small smile in return.

"Now, what do you think will be a good nail polish color on Scott? I actually have quite the collection hidden away."

Alan gave him a skeptical look.

"What? I spent the weekend at Lady Penelope's house and got bored. She taught me how to pain nails, and I figured it would be a really cool thing to try to implement into a prank." Gordon shrugged.

If Virgil wondered why Scott's hair was darker color than normal, and his nails – fingers and toes – were a bright pink and a bright green, he didn't dark ask.


	3. Chapter 3 Delirium

**AN: Okay, we're going for three tonight. **

**Sorry to any who tried to read earlier. What uploaded looked like a bunch of code, but I think I went in and was able to fix it. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

"Okay, how about this...I spy with my little eye, a rock!"

Virgil rolled his eyes, and said, "Gee, I wonder what it could be..."

"C'mon, you have to guess."

Turning to look down at Gordon hunched down on the floor, the pang of worry had him smirking and kicking at a rock at his foot.

"This one?" he asked.

"Nope!" Gordon crowed, popping his p.

"I give up then."

Gordon pouted at him. "You aren't even trying."

Virgil sat down beside his brother, trying very hard to keep from reaching over to check his brother's tender side. He had said that curling up the way he was made it feel better, but the idea that Gordon was internally bleeding was bothering him and his medic side wanted to do _something. _

"Forgive me, but there are so many things in an elevator that can be used in a game of I spy."

They had been working a rescue, something simple. It wasn't anything bad, just responding to an explosion in a building a few streets down. The building was empty – something that was just going up apparently. When they had found pieces to a radio receiver and John had found something suspicious a few buildings over though, Gordon and Virgil had made sure everything at the main scene was taken care of, and had gone to investigate. They had gotten onto the elevator rather than run up ten flights of stairs to where a strong, out of ordinary radio signal was coming from and as soon as they had hit the tenth floor, a bomb had gone off.

When Virgil had woken up, he'd had a headache and was pretty sure he'd be sore for a week. But he had quickly realized that Gordon was in pretty bad shape. He tried to laugh it off, but several of Gordon's ribs were broken, and there was deep bruising under the skin that signified internal bleeding. To make matters worse, neither of them could reach Scott or John on the transmitters.

Gordon shifted a little, and was suddenly crying out in pain. Virgil was hovering over him in a second, trying to figure out what he could do, but unsure of how he could help. He was horrified to see a tear track it's way down Gordon's white, dirt streaked face.

"Gords? You okay?"

Gordon was breathing heavily through his nose. "I don't know," he finally managed to get out. "I'm cold."

Virgil frowned, and pulled off a glove, reaching his hand up to feel Gordon's forehead. He swore. "You're burning up."

Gordon opened previously closed eyes and squinted up at Virgil in the dim lighting. "You coulda just said I was hot."

Virgil was pretty sure Gordon could see his eyeroll this time.

"You sure you don't want to lay down?"

"Pretty sure. It hurts less up here. I can breath easier."

Virgil nodded. "You want to lay back on me at least?" He needed to be doing _something_.

Gordon hesitated a moment, and then nodded. Virgil wasn't sure if he was relieved or more concerned. It took a lot for Gordon to admit he was hurt, and even more for him to act vulnerable.

There was quite a bit of hissing involved, and a few whimpers that tore at Virgil's heart, but he finally got Gordon to lean back against his chest and relax. He really was rather feverish though. Through the insulation of their suits, he could feel the heat coming off Gordon in waves.

"Hey, wanna play two truths and a lie?"

Gordon turned his head to look up at Virgil, almost going cross-eyed. "Really?"

Virgil smiled. "Yeah."

"Hm...I have jumped off a cliff. I have painted my toenails red. I have kissed Penelope."

Virgil snorted. "Kissing Lady P is definitely the lie."\

"Uh uh. It was just on the cheek. But I totally gave her a kiss. I think I was high on pain medication, after the accident with the Hood and Brahman. But I remember she kissed me on the cheek, and later on I did the same to her. She told me later."

Virgil was floored. Never would he have thought that Gordon would have had the guts to do that. Even if it was just on the cheek.

"So...I'm going to assume you've never painted your toenails red then?"

"Nope! I painted them purple once."

"Okay then, my turn. I've danced an Irish jig, I've crashed a car, and I have eaten food Grandma made without making a face."

"Ha, the last one. Definitely the last one. I feel bad for Grandma, but she can't cook anything right..."

Virgil smirked. "Yeah. But how did you know that I've danced an Irish jig before?"

He felt more than saw Gordon smile. "I was really little. I don't remember a lot from it, but you were taking dance lessons and showing off for mom. You didn't want the rest of us to know though because you thought we would make fun of you. I was peeking from the hallway though. It was super cool. I wanted to do it too."

Virgil was floored. He had been eight years old, which would have meant that Gordon couldn't have been more than three.

"I remember mom too. She was so proud of you. I miss her."

Virgil felt unbidden tears come to his eyes. He had had no idea that Gordon remembered anything from that young an age. Alan had a few small memories of their mom, but had to rely on his older brother's stories and lot of pictures more than anything else. Gordon didn't ever talk about her.

"I miss her too buddy," Virgil said, subconsciously pulling Gordon closer, careful not to jostle his injured ribs.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two. Virgil, you there?"

The reception was spotty, but Virgil was never more happy to hear Scott's voice over the radio.


	4. Chapter 4 Shield, Gunpoint, Dragged

**AN: I've had a splitting headache for the majority of the day, and still have some homework to do, but I guess that's why these things are called challenges.**

**But guys! I got a 90 on my Spanish midterm! *does happy dance***

**Tonight's post will just be one post, but I'm combining three prompts. **

**Disclaimer: Nope, nada, zilch. This ain't mine. **

**Chapter 4**

**Human Shield, Gunpoint, Dragged Away. **

Of all the rotten Tracy luck, for Gordon and Scott to be in the middle of a bank robbery just took the cake.

There had been a lull in rescues, something rather welcome the last while as everyone had been very tightly wound, and they had decided to go out for the day and enjoy some time in the city. Normally, Gordon would be happy to go off with Virgil or Alan, but Scott had made some sort of comment about never hanging out with him, so they had split the group differently than they normally would. Not that it was a bad thing, but Scott didn't have the humor that Alan appreciated, or the wonderful reactions that Virgil produced. Scott definitely reacted, that was for sure.

They had gotten out and about, and realized that they both realized they didn't actually have a credit card on either of them. Scott had the ability to use his phone to pay for whatever he needed, but Gordon had dropped his into the pool, and it was totally waterproof, but...well, there were other circumstances, and let's just say his phone was no more for the time being. Being Tracy's, they could totally get a new phone at the snap of a finger, but Scott purposely made him wait because "maybe this will teach you a lesson."

And then they actually needed money to do anything, and old fashioned Scott decided they could totally go to the bank and withdraw money the old fashioned way, and if they hadn't actually _done_ that, Gordon wouldn't currently be standing on his tip toes, a gun pushing obnoxiously into the tender spot of his neck right under his jaw.

Yeah, it would totally_ not_ be cool if the gun happened to go off…

"I told you that this was stupid," Gordon managed to get out around the pressure against his neck.

"Gordon, just shut up." Scott was sitting on his knees beside several other unfortunate old fashioned patrons, hands clasped together behind his head. Gordon wasn't sure if the glare was an "I'm going to kill anyone who hurts my little brother" glare or an "I'm going to punch you if you don't shut up" glare. Maybe it was both.

"Listen to your brother. He looks dumb but that was a pretty smart thing to say." The gun pushed harder into Gordon's throat, and he choked as the arm that was also holding him up pressed against his neck as well. Gordon wished for the millionth time that he wasn't so short as he scrambled to keep his grip on the arm, his grip reminding him of a weird workout in the gym.

This _really_ sucked.

"Quite talking. We have the money, lets go."

The big meaty dude that was holding Gordon hostage turned to look at his friend, dragging Gordon with him.

"No alarms were sounded, right?"

The skinnier dude, who seemed to be in charge, (it seemed kinda funny to Gordon, considering the size difference) nodded his head. "We should be clear."

"Hm. Well, to be on the safe side, let's keep some insurance."

Gordon managed to gulp as he realized they were talking about him.

"You guys can get away clean without a hostage. Just leave him here, none of us will follow you."

Gordon admired Scott's level voice, but he could see the glare turn to concern out of the corner of his eye. Along with the panic that was swimming around in his stomach, Gordon felt some warmth at the thought that he had Scott freaking Tracy on his side.

It just wouldn't do a whole lot of good at the moment.

"I know won't follow us, or call the police. Because this guy is coming with us." The gun left his throat for a moment as big and meaty gestured to Gordon with it. He took the opportunity to swallow properly.

"Don't worry Scotty, I'm good." Gordon tried to smile, but he was pretty sure it looked more like a grimace.

Tall and skinny was checking the front door. "Let's go out the back. I texted McCray. He'll have the car ready to go."

Big and meaty nodded, and the panic skyrocketed as he turned and proceeded to drag Gordon out of the main lobby towards the back room behind the desk.

"Gordon!"

It was the last thing Gordon heard before the door shut behind him. A few more steps, and they were suddenly outside, and the bright sunlight had Gordon blinking rapidly to see properly.

"Okay, here we go," Tall and skinny said.

There was a nondescript black car in the alleyway, and Gordon could just barely make out the shape of this McCray dude in the front seat.

"Pop the trunk," Big and meaty said, and Gordon's heart plummeted as he was dragged toward the back of the car.

"Guys, I really am going to complain about how cramped this Uber is..."

"Such a smart mouth on you," Tall and skinny said.

The arm was released from around his throat, and Gordon had a split second of relief before there was a sudden pain on the back of his head. The world started to go gray, but before it completely turned to black, he felt himself being shoved into the trunk.

_Crap._

}{

As soon as Gordon was dragged out of the lobby and the door slammed shut behind him, Scott was on his feet. He hadn't dared to pull his phone out with a gun shoved at his little brother's neck, but it was the first thing he reached for.

"Wait! They said not to call the police! They'll kill your brother!"

The frantic teller meant well, but Scott just smiled grimly at her. "They might kill him anyways, and besides, I'm not calling the police."

"Hey Scott, what's up?"

Alan's cheerful voice was a complete contrast to the raging emotions that were fighting for dominance right now in Scott's chest.

"I need to talk to Virgil."

There must have been something in his voice, because Alan didn't question him.

"What's wrong?"

This was why he loved Virgil, always right to the point. "Bank robbery. Gordon mouthed off and is now a hostage who knows where while the robbers make there getaway. He's wearing his watch I think. Can you contact John at the island? I know he wasn't feeling well but he's our best bet for tracking him."

"FAB," Virgil replied. "You at General Fargo? Alan and I are only a few blocks away. We can meet you there, and I can get us a ride."

Scott closed his eyes, sighing with some relief. "Yeah, yeah that's good."

He hung up the phone, and took a moment to breath.

_We're coming for you Gords. _

}{

When Gordon blinked his eyes open, he realized several things at once. First, it was dark. Second, it smelled like Scott's shoes after he'd spent a few hours jogging. And third, his head hurt, really bad.

The world spun and it took Gordon a moment to realize that it was actually the car and not his head that caused it. But it certainly made his head worse. It took all of Gordon's willpower not to throw up in the small enclosed space.

_Wait...car...trunk…_

What happened came back to him in a flash, and he groaned in annoyance and pain.

"Great, just great."

Gordon didn't think of himself to be very claustrophobic – he piloted a tiny sub for pete's sake! But that was a little different. He could actually _see _in there, and he was used to being able to navigate a rather large ocean.

It felt better to close his eyes rather than stare at the darkness that was staring to feel suffocating. Or was that just the awful smell?

The movement of the car suddenly halted, and Gordon braced himself for light as the trunk opened.

But none came. He heard the sound of muffled voices, and then they faded away. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, and Gordon hoped that he was very wrong about what was happening. But what felt like ten minutes went by in which Gordon kept his calm,_ thank you very much. _But no one came back. After a few moments longer, Gordon started to realize they had probably abandoned the car, with him in it.

Moving in the cramped space, Gordon pushed at the top of the trunk experimentally. Nothing happened. He pushed harder.

Gordon rarely cried, but the situation finally completely dawned on him, and he very quickly started to have a panic attack. He knew it was a completely different situation, but all he could think of was that he was trapped with water coming in, unable to feel his legs, unable to move, the darkness finally getting to him.

Gordon knew he was panicking, and that there was not a lot of air for him to be using. But he couldn't stop.

"Scotty...Virg...Al...please come find me..."

}{

It had taken John all of three minutes to get the signal from Gordon's watch, and Scott had jumped into the vehicle, Virgil peeling out of the bank parking lot in record time. Alan was in the back seat, uncharacteristically quiet.

The getaway car had a good head start on them, and Scott really wished they had their Thunderbirds with them, because they could have found Gordon in the span of a few minutes. But for the sake of discretion and not wanting the whole world to associate the Tracys with the Thunderbirds, they opted for the more subtle approach.

"I've flown One before, I can be there really fast," John had said. It had taken everything in Scott to deny him.

"Just keep an eye on him, and keep an ear out to hear if he tries to contact you."

"FAB," John replied. They were all concerned that there had been no attempt at communication from Gordon, but that was hopefully because he didn't want to blow his cover. They didn't dare try to call him for the same reasons.

Nothing was said for the full forty minutes that they were in the car, and the silence was really starting to get on his nerves. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Virgil slammed on the brakes.

"Virg – what?"

Virgil pointed to the GPS. "The car stopped a while ago. I didn't see a turn til now. It's down this road."

Virgil gestured out the window, and Scott saw the abandoned looking road off to their left. His stomach did a few flip flops.

It was the perfect place to off someone.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Scott tensed up as Virgil turned onto the road. They went just a short way down before Virgil opted to stop. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that they try to sneak up on the robbers if they were still there.

"Stay here, Alan," Virgil said, but Scott shook his head.

"No, I don't want them to find you if they're around here somewhere."

Virgil hesitated, and then nodded.

Within a few minutes of slow walking, they saw the car. It was a plain, dirty, black, vehicle, and for all intents and purposes, it looked empty.

"His signal is coming from right in front of you," John's voice came over the comms.

Scott and Virgil exchanged a look, and Virgil walked around the car, easily opening the driver side door. Bracing himself for what they might find, Scott positioned himself to where Alan couldn't easily see into the trunk, and Virgil hit the button to open it.

Gordon was curled into a ball, his eyes squeezed shut and tear stains littering his face.

But he was _alive. _

It was as if a switch was turned on. Scott went from International Rescue boss to Older Brother in the blink of an eye, and he was reaching down to touch Gordon's shoulder. Gordon startled, and then opened his eyes, taking a moment to focus on Scott's face.

"Wha – Scott?"

"Hey Squid," he replied, relief in his voice, but his concern mounting as he realized how hard it was for Gordon to focus on him.

"I'm...not feeling so good."

There was a quick scramble of awkward movement, and Gordon was emptying the few contents of his stomach on the ground, just barely missing Scott's shoes. But Scott didn't care. Gordon spit a few times, mumbled, "that was gross," and then promptly threw himself into Scott's arms.

Closing his eyes, wrapping Gordon in his embrace, Scott met Virgil's own relieved gaze.

"We got you Squid, we got you."


End file.
